Subtle Soldier
by MaroonAngel of Darkness
Summary: Leaning away, he looked up at her, saying with a light tremble in his voice, "I was told they're happier." Her face hardened into a dark grimace, like she was also told that one too many times as well. As gently as she could, she replied, "No one knows for sure. I wouldn't call them happy though." Lightning as a mother drabble
1. To Bodhum

**the main idea for this fic was to have a go at lightning as a mother figure, with side romance later, but mostly a family fic as lightning learns and adjusts to being a mother. originally, the one who was going to end up taking place as dad was Noctis, but now i'm not too sure, the love interest might change, or there might not be one at all. it depends, i might turn this into a story, but for now, its a thought to put out there lightning as a mother figure.**

**be prepared, its a long drabble, but, enjoy!  
**

* * *

He felt completely out of place here, in the large, circular area of Nautilus Guardian Corps HQ, even more so with a large suitcase at his side, his father's moogle on his head, and the most important picture album clutched tightly in his hands, pressing constantly at his chest. These were his only companions here; the only things he had left. The only things he could bring. Everything else was crisp and scattered ash. Never to be used or touched again.

He gripped the album tighter. Just like them. He could never touch them again.

Trying hard to distract himself, he searched the crowd. Mom often spoke highly of the woman that was supposed to come and get him. How she was one of the greatest women his mother ever knew, even his father spoke with high admiration and respect for this woman, his supposed aunt. If he remembered correctly, he was told that she was a soldier, a fighter.

She was near impossible to find in this heavy mass of white uniforms. And few even considered helping him. Some glanced his way, pity in their eyes, but none came up to offer support or comfort to him. He wanted that comfort, but he also didn't. Pity reminded him gravely of his situation, of what's wrong with his life, and even more, what's missing now. He wanted the comfort that none could give either.

He didn't want to hear someone say that they were in a better place and were just thankful he survived. He didn't want to hear someone saying that they couldn't imagine what he was going through. It just made it worse for him. Painful almost. As sad and scared as he was, he was glad none approached him about it. He didn't want to be approached about it. He just wanted out of here and in bed, believing that when he woke, it was all just a bad dream, and him mom would be up, and he beg her for pancakes, or waffles, and she'd get him cereal instead. Then he would leave with dad to school, an occasional hug, then off he went, and his day would go on with his mom picking him up and his day spent studying and getting his homework done (or sneaking video games). And when mom was done cooking, she'd come and help him with the ones he had trouble with. Then dad would be home, and the day would be like any other day.

And this situation he was in here was just a bad dream. He wouldn't care if he woke up crying, he just wanted to wake up, and bury himself into his mother, listening to her hushed whisper and gentle touch to chase away this awful dream, a dream where it was only him, and this aunt he's only heard of through his mother's fond stories and his own father's admiration.

And his parents gone.

The moogle on his head shifted, burying his head into his messy brown hair quietly as he watched the crowd around them through squinted eyes. He cherished the feel of the moogle nosing his hair, the silent comfort needed. He knows he wouldn't dare breath a word here. Too many people, too many eyes. He himself could relate. Too many people, too many things going on right now.

As if to try and block it out, he pulled his legs up and buried himself into his own curl, his forehead leaning uncomfortably on the album as he waited.

Shadows fell over him as he waited. He could feel the stares of the people as they went, murmuring to one another. He was deaf to them all, and as mute as the moogle on his head. He kept his eyes closed to blind himself from reality.

One shadow that fell over him lasted longer than most. He was almost tempted to look up, especially when he felt the moogle shift on his head, murmuring softly.

"Denzel?" a velvet voice asked, smoother and slightly deeper than his mother's, but still had the odd familiar note. Familiar enough to crack his deaf ears. He jerked up, making the moogle squeal and grumble as it was tossed off his head. Wide eyed, he stared up at a woman that easily stood over his crouch on the bench. "Mom," he breathed wishfully. She looked so much like her. Same lush and soft looking strawberry hair that seem to have its own graceful and beautiful life to it, same heart shaped face, same blue eyes that were dabbed with the colors of gray and green.

But closer details revealed that it wasn't.

Her skin was darker than his mother's, though slightly. Her hair was different in a sense. It lied on the wrong shoulder, and the bangs were wrong. The eyes weren't warm and welcoming, they were cautious and sad. And like every soldier here, she wore a white uniform of the Guardian Corp. unit. And then there was the weapon that was loyally at her side, hanging patiently and ready for use.

This wasn't mom.

She could never be mom.

He looked away from her, biting his lips as he hid his face. His eyes stung and his body trembled, slightly overwhelmed. Why was she so similar? Why was she so different?

Why did they have to go?

He felt the moogle climb onto his shoulder, nuzzling his ear. It did little this time to ease him out of his emotional state.

The woman before him, his aunt, moved. Out of the corner of his watering eye, he saw her reaching out, taking his suite case easily and slipping it to her side. She stood there for a moment in front of him, waiting for him. To do what, he didn't know. From under his own bangs, he saw her reach out, but stopped and dropped her hand at her side, looking a little lost.

"Do you want to visit them?" she asked, her rough voice a little softer.

Silently, he shook his head.

"What do you want?" she probed.

_I want my mom and dad._

"I want to go home," he said instead, not uncurling himself yet. But he did look up slightly, watching her.

She saw through him though. He saw it in her eyes. A flicker of recognition, and her own sadness. She settled next to him, a respective distance from him, his suitcase set at her feet. "When you are ready," she told him gently. She didn't elaborate anymore to it. He got the sense that it was for both seeing his old life and leaving for Bodhum. Shakily, he allowed himself a small nod, and unconsciously leaned towards her, the back of his head lightly touching her bare arm.

The warmth of her arm drifted off, encasing him. He allowed himself to scoot a little closer, breathing in her scent. Like his mother, she had that distinct and almost undetectable smell of flowers, and spring. Only his mother also smelled like books, and food. His aunt, she had a salty smell to her, she also smelled like leather and metal. Leaning away, he looked up at her, saying with a light tremble in his voice, "I was told they're happier."

Her face didn't move towards him, but her eyes glanced down at him. Her face hardened into a dark grimace, like she was also told that one too many times as well. As gently as she could, she replied, "No one knows for sure. I wouldn't call them happy though."

He completely leaned onto her then, a weight seemly off his chest. "Thank you," he mumbled. That meant they weren't happy to be apart from him. They weren't happy that he survived alone and by himself, that he was all alone. He didn't want to think that they were like that. They should be sad, maybe even angry that neither of them were with him. How could they be happy knowing he was alone, with this stranger look alike as his new mom.

It was nice hearing from her that his mom and dad were probably not happy. He didn't want them to be happy about this.

* * *

He kept clsoe to his aunt, following her through the crowded streets. She kept her hand down and open for him, but he didn't take it, not yet. It meant that this was a reality, that she was his new mom.

She was nothing like his mom though. He didn't want her to be his mom, he wanted to meet her because she was that cool sounding aunt, not his cool and distant mom. He wanted his old mom, who smiled at him and always dragged him into hugs, whether he wanted those hugs or not.

His aunt had yet to hug him, then again, he hadn't really wanted a hug. So with a moogle and album held closely to his chest, his suitcase in her other hand, he settled with just keeping close and trying not to lose her in this crowd. He glanced up at her every now and then, allowing himself to think that the pink locks that hung over her shoulder belonged to his mother instead. It didn't help that his aunt didn't turn around and smile down at him, like his mother used to do.

It didn't help at all that his aunt and mother looked so alike, yet, were so completely different. It was merely another hard and bitter stab at his chest to think of how it came to this. How could they look so alike, yet so different? His mother always had a bright and warm smile on her features, and always ready for contact, with him and dad.

Yet his aunt had to smile, or even touch him.

Truthfully, he wasn't int he mood to be touched. too many people, too many strangers came up and touched him, repeating the same phrase till it turned into a sound in his ears.

_I'm sorry. _

For what? They didn't kill his parents, they weren't involved at all. They did nothing at all, except mumur that one phrase to him, over and over again. It was just making it worse. They have no idea what he was feeling, they have no right to try and sympathize. Mom always said sorry was said by someone who was at fault. How were all those strangers at fault?

The fire was an accident, a freak accident. No one was around to cause it, as far as he knew, something caught aflame while his parents were asleep, pressed and secured in each others arms. The only thing that was missing was him, pressed in between.

Even with the fire there, he still wanted to be there, feel their larger bodies around him, keeping him safe and secure, even in death. So long as he was with them, he was safe, he could have bare with the pain of getting burned and smothered in smoke. So long as they were close.

He couldn't have been farther though. He was too far now. They were gone, and he had no idea, like any bad, and oblivious son. How could he know? How could he not? He noticed the smoke from the school window, but thought nothing of it. Fires were far from common, but the GC and sometimes PSICOM were always there to calm the crowds and mellow the flames. Lives were always saved.

Why wasn't theirs saved?

Why did he not realize that the fire was in his home's area? How could he be so stupid and thoughtless of it? He just stared, empty minded out the window, watching the smoke rise in merging bubbles while the teacher droned on. He didn't think anything of it. Not till school was over, and he waited two hours to see his dad to come pick him up and take him home.

Dad never came.

Mom never came.

Neither of them called.

And even when he called, they didn't answer.

He ran all the way home on that bright sunny day, where they bright blue sky turned golden with promise. He barely noticed the happy glow int he air, too consumed with worry and confusion. Did something happen?

Of course something happened.

A fire happened.

He stopped before his home, finding yellow tape stripped before his house, a now shriveled building, with smoke and steam rising. The bold words of caution set cold claws on his throat, catching and stopping his breath. His heart froze and he went deaf to the world, as he stood, in shock at what was his home.

Nothing else mattered then.

_"MOOOM!" he cried, rushing forward, not even bothering to stop the tears that flowed down his cheeks. He didn't see the soldiers rushing forward, grabbing him and keeping him from running into the building. He didn't hear them as they spoke, deaf to them, life his ears was covered by a bubble they couldn't pop. _

_"DAAAD!" he shouted, squirming even more as he struggled against the arms that held him. Where were they? Where in the house were they? They needed him, he had to get to them.  
_

_He needed them.  
_

He had been pulled away from the site, away from his home, and his parents. He was pushed into a GC's car, and taken to their station, where he was questioned by the authorities, and they, in turn contacted his aunt. He woke from his broken stupor when he was sat down on a couch, shivering and choking on his sorrows. The first words he heard was the soft and gentle whisper of his interrogator.

_"Their gone."_

He has never felt to empty. Especially after hearing those words. After that, the officer that brought him came back, handing him a photo album and what he presumed was a stuffed moogle that some how avoided the damaging flames. He kept them both close. They were all he had left now, of his old home. Though he still had one family member left,she had yet to feel that precious. He looked up at his aunt, fighting another wave of emotions. His aunt. He thought he was going to meet through his parents, not through their death.

Why was he meeting her through their death? Why didn't she come sooner, or why didn't they go over sooner, just so he could finally meet the aunt his mother always whispered to him about, how she greatly admired her and stating that she was one of the strongest people she's ever known.

All the stories and whispers about her, told to him constantly; she felt like a total stranger though. She didn't seem strong, she seemed just as empty and broken as he was. Her face didn't change much, her eyes, they were half lidded and clouded, her lips dipping down slightly in a hidden frown.

She was just like him this this sense. They both lost family; at least he could relate to that.

But he wasn't ready to fill that in, he doubted it could ever be filled in.

He paused, sucking in a surprised breath when he felt the lightest of touch on the fringe that hung over his head. The touch didn't move, merely resting there, making his mind go blank by surprise. He looked up, peeking at her from under his hair.

A slightly sad face looked down at him.

That light touch moved down, grazing his cheeks and he blinked a few times he felt something warm and wet smothering over his skin. He was crying?

Other hand came and smoothed over his other cheek, wiping the tear stains.

"They won't be happy if you cry," she whispered to him.

"What'll make them happy then, he grumbled out at her in weak rebellion. He couldn't bring himself to lean away from her touch. It was as light and as warm as his mother's. Instead, he found himself leaning into it, crumbling as he tried to bury his face into her hands, hiding from her and the world.

"Seeing you get through this," she said simply. "This is merely another struggle in life, get through it, and recover, you'll find yourself stronger than before." He took in a shuddering breath as her words. With one hand clutching his album tightly, the other went to her hands, tugging them close as he buried his face into her palms, hiding as he silently cried.

He was thankful.

When he leaned back, she brought her soaked hands back, rising up as well, towering over him again. He blinked dazedly up at her, distantly noticing that they had gotten some stares, but she hardly seemed bothered, too focused on him.

"Let's go," she said gently, picking up his suitcase and walking ahead. He quickly followed, keeping, just as before, only this time, he reached up and shyly took her hand. She curled her fingers loosely around his smaller, lightly tugging him along. Just like he did with his mother, he allowed himself to get tugged along.

* * *

At this point, he was merely ready to sleep.

He had cried his energy and life away, and simply became more broken the longer he thought about his parents, and his new home. They didn't go back to the ruins, he wasn't ready to go see them, if he ever was. He felt it was the same with her. They would go see them, when they were ready.

Only if they ever were.

Tiredly, he looked up and over at her, watching her in the small cot room they rented on the ship back to Bodhum. She was slid up against the window, peering out. To anyone on the other side of the cot, they would have thought she was merely thinking, for him though, slid and bunked at the wall under the window as well, he saw that she too was crying. Her face didn't break and crumble like his though. It was still the same, only her eyes were squinted and her lips bitten through clenched teeth. Only a single tear escaped her barricade, and that seemed like the only one she would allow. She closed her eyes tightly, pressing her face into the window and smearing it as if she was trying to rub her own internal sorrow away.

He wished it could work like that. He would've loved to smear his face into something, feeling its comfort, and have all his problems and insecurities disappear.

But it wasn't that easy. Just the thought brought another shudder through his body.

Mutely, he rose, taking the covers with him and got on the opposite cot that she was lounged on. He pressed himself against her, closing his eyes and imagining that it was his mother that he was pressed against. A few minutes later, a shy arm wrapped around him, bringing him close, just like his mother used too whenever he snuck into bed at night. The only thing missing was his own father, who's arm would curl around his mother, and tug both of them close.

Did he have an uncle back in Bodhum?

It was never said.

He shook his head and pressed it against he cot, allowing himself to drift in the warmth and security that encased him.

It didn't matter much now.

* * *

Bodhum was a town famous for their fireworks, beach, and tropic area.

It was also the home town where his mother used to live. He struggled to take in all the sights of Bodhum as he held close to his aunt, who didn't own a car like his mother did, but a silver and red hover bike she fondly named Odin. Bodhum was a large and town, almost a city, though not as big as Nautilus. He found that there weren't a lot of hover cars or bikes here in Bodhum, and that most people that were out and about merely walked. And almost all of them were tan, unlike his aunt, who was pale.

Did this mean he would get a tan here too?

He blinked when they slowed and stopped before one of many dome shaped two story houses. He was also happy to find that they were really close to the beach. His aunt parked in front of the building, easing the engine hush. She turned him, asking, "Do you need help getting down?"

"No," he murmured as he slid off, stumbling a bit off the bike. He watched as Lightning easily slid off, grabbed his suitcase, and made her way over to the home. With his album and moogle close to him, he followed eagerly, about to find out what sort of home his mother lived in.

"We have two open bedrooms," she told him as she unlocked it. "Mine old room, and Serah's... you are welcomed to either of them."

Serah, his mother's name. It sounds like its been forever since he heard it. Gulping down the unsteady rise of sorrow, he slipped in, following his aunt into the house. He found the house to be open and roomy, with a hall that lead to the den, but had an open doorway in the side that lead to the kitchen. After a quick peek at the kitchen, he checked the rest of the house. Up on the hall wall, he found many pictures and drawings, most were his mother, with a few of his aunt, completely unaware of the camera focused in on her.

In the den, he found a stair well that lead up to the second story, were most of the bedrooms were. He found the master bedroom where his aunt likely slept in, a large bed more than big enough for two. Then that left the other two rooms. His aunt's old room as a child, and his mother's.

More eager and curious about his mother's, he slipped in, blinking at the modest green room, with a desk, end table by a bed. There were pictures everywhere in his mother's room. Of Lightning, her, his grandparents that were never mentioned, and a blonde man he didn't recognize. He set his moogle on the bed, and the album on the end table, next to a picture of his mother and father when they were younger, the only picture with his father.

When he turned around, he found his aunt standing in the door way, looking a little sad as she stared about the room thoughtfully. Silently, she set his suitcase down, nodding to him as she turned at left. "I'll get dinner ready, Denzel, make yourself at home."

"Can you tell me..." he started, making her pause. He picked up the framed silver photo of both his parents when they were younger.

"Can you tell me you and mom's childhood?"

She looked back at him from over her shoulder, offering a sad, gentle smile. "Sure," she said.

* * *

**been forever since i watched the walk through for FF13, so i distantly remember lightning's house, sorry if its wrong ^^' **

**so anyway, a few fact, because i don't see to many stories with Denzel, i made him the son of serah and noel (love that paired, a _whole _lot more than serah and snow, truthfully, i'm a real snow hater, i think he is one of the worst characters to have ever been made. i'm sorry if anyone is a snow fan out there, but i take great pleasure in seeing him in pain, especially when lightning beats the crap out of him)  
**

**i'll probably post another chapter or two about Denzel growing up with Lighting and how they adjust to each other, also, how Denzel meets the rest of lightning's self proclaimed family. **

**either way, r&r :)**


	2. Bodhum Beach Night

**i decided to turn this into a small drabble ;) **

**i'm open to writing out ideas, but this fic is more for another side of lightning, as a mother so not so much of a romantic fic(but we can include a man later on ;3, i'm open with any guy: Noctis, Zack, Cloud, Sephiroth, ect. you guys can take your pick if you want, or i could just write her with all of them in different chapters, i'm open).  
**

* * *

**2. Bodhum Beach Night**

Off hand, he didn't know on what to think about Bodhum. It was a nice place, for sure. Maybe a little too much sun, and the salty smell in the air did take some getting used too. Even more so when the wind hit his face and it stung his eyes a little at the impact. And then there was the beach itself. The sight of it was beautiful and exciting, but then he found that the sand was too hot on his bare feet, and then the water was too cold. That alone was made this fairly unpleasant, even more so when he watched people wander about, bare footed in the sand or in the ocean. Denzel didn't know how they did it. That sand was like an oven! Yet there seemed to be no care in the world.

Denzel decided that people in Bodhum just didn't make sense.

To secure his feet, Denzel only wandered on the sand in shoes, or hid from it on a towel or inside Lightning's home. He didn't go to the beach too often, and avoided it the best he could.

He was surprised one day when his aunt approached him one time, and asked, "Do you want to go to the beach?"

He stared up at her, blinking his big blue eyes as he thought over her words. In return, the woman's lips twitched up into a small, warm smile. He turned away from and thought the question over. It wasn't often that aunt Lightning would want to go anywhere socialbe, and in a small sense, he could relate, like his father, he wasn't one that was fond of crowds, but wasn't completely a loner either. His aunt though, she was even worse than him and his father. She avoided conversation like a plague, glare ready to shoot down the fool that approached her; or simply ignore them. And, like him, she was fine with spending the evening and days well away from the city and in the comfort of their own home. Simply relaxing and enjoying each other's presence.

Denzel had learn to relish those days as much as she did.

Tonight, actually, was supposed to be another of their family time. It always went with Lightning either on the couch or her bed, a book in her hand, sometimes a glass of wine close to her side; and Denzel himself would crawl up to her side and press his smaller body against hers, enjoying the feel and warmth of their bodies together as she wrapped one loose arm around. Sometimes, he would watch her read, sometimes watch TV, sometimes he had a book of his own, have a bowl of ice cream, sometimes, and sometimes, he just slept against her. And when he woke, he would find himself in his own room, one that used to be his mother's, and sometimes, he found himself in his aunt room. He was usually alone in bed, though, every now and then, his aunt would allow herself to sleep in with him, still pressed closely to his side.

He knew well enough that aunt loved these moments as much as him, and did everything in her power to make sure they hapened. Why tonight does his aunt ask him this? A crowd over a moment together. Curiously, though reluctantly, Denzel cautiously agreed to go to the Beach with her.

Slipping on some sandles, he followed his aunt out the door while she lugged a blanket, and him a bowl of cherries, strawberries, and grapes to snack on.

They were going to be at this beach for a while then?

His aunt didn't answer any of his questions as he followed her obidiently on the edge of the crowd that stood and shifted impatiently on the beach, murmuring with excited whispers. Curious watching this crowd, Denzel followed his aunt eagerly, he was ready to see what this fuss was about.

His aunt lead him to a hill that was found on the beach. A little difficult to climb up, he struggled up to his aunt's chosen perch as she laid out the blanket for them. "Sit," she instructed as she took the bowl of fruit. He did so, slumping on the blanket as he stared out expectingly. His aunt settled beside him, also settled down, though she had a knowing look in her eye, a playful gleam he didn't see too often in her eyes.

Just as he was about to ask her what was going on, rushing lights caught his attetnion. Turning quickly, he watched, open mouth, as the fireworks started. He has seen fireworks before, his parents always took him there, watching fireworks and the parade in Nautilus, but these, the infamous fireworks of Bodhum, where another sight entirely.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" his aunt whispered.

"Amazing," he breathed.

So maybe Bodhum's beach wasn't _so_ bad.

But that didn't change the fact that the sand was still too hot and the water too cold.


	3. Survivor

**well, its been a while since i last updated on this one, huh? **

**this chapter here is a what if Lightning met Denzel after Cocoon's fall, and he is not her nephew.  
**

* * *

**Survivor **

Dust and smoke filled the air as a heavy, coating mist. It clung to everything in it, slowing and dragging anything that moved, and blinded the searching survivors and rescuers. Worse of it, it slipped in and choked people mercilessly. PSICOM and the GC were all to wear oxygen masks and goggles for safety while they searched for survivors in Cocoon's fall.

Cocoon's fall.

She grimaced to herself. As nice as it was to be free of the fal'Cie, the cost for it was large. Many died when Cocoon fell, and Sanctum was struggling to help and find anyone that was able to escape death.

Being a large cause for Cocoon's fall, Lightning did as she was ordered willingly. It was her fault after all. She was at fault as to why Cocoon fell. Though she doubted an apology would fix anything, she did what she could to help Cocoon and even out the score of the mess she caused.

Surprisingly, Sanctum took her back, though begrudgingly. She was watched closely, and the prey to all of Sanctum soldiers' bitter feeling and thoughts.

She took it all though. She listened to each curse sent her way, understanding completely why they growled and snarled at her. It was her fault after all. She wouldn't take them to heart, never would, she did what she had to do for her sister. For her own survival. But she would regret the loss people suffered, and understand them and the person they lost.

She would do it to help make up for making Cocoon fall, for letting millions die.

To help the living thousands that were waiting to be lifted up and away from every danger zone, Lightning searched steadily.

Lightning was one of many wearing such masks as she slipped noisily through the rubble so she would be heard. With heat sensing goggles covering her eyes as she sought for bodies, and an oxygen mask over her face as she breathed, protecting her respiratory system while she looked, so this dust wouldn't clog her up.

But for any survivors here, it was a merciless death field. They'd die choking on the air they desperately need. Instead of air, they'd be breathing in all the dirt in the air, feeling it rake and brush against their throat instead of the cool touch of air. Because of this, this area was going to be declared another dead zone, with the area so unstable and merciless, it seemed near impossible for any survivors. Lightning is one of few soldiers sent to scavenge the land for any last, struggling survivors.

She is seeing none so far, and she's almost an hour into this area and has yet to see any body heat of a survivor. She was just about ready to phone in and declare that her end was clear, the Sanctum would have people look at this area once it has been cleared.

Just as she listed her wrist before, hand ready to signal the radio, a clatter of stones was heard, catching her off guard. Turning to them, she peered warily at a pile of concrete. Adjusting her heat sensing goggles, she intensified their power, and blinked when she saw that there was a body hidden in all that concrete pile, with the rubble almost masking the person completely.

Lightning rushed over, touching the rubble with one hand, and snapping the other, allowing her gravity bomb to fill the area, affecting everything around her. Stones shifted as it surged through them, and Lightning evenly pushed them up and away. When she cleared most of it, she blinked behind her goggles in surprise to see that a boy lay underneath, barely conscious. Ripping away a gas mask form her belt, she clipped it quickly over his face.

"Breathe," she told him, still pushing debris away to get a better reach of him.

He shakily breathed in through the mask, his eyes half lidded like a child struggle to rouse himself for school.

If only.

Gently, but steadily, she pulled him out, and he slumped heavily against her. Wrapping her arms around him securely, she pulled them both up on standing legs. Holding him tightly to her, she intensified her goggles power again and scoped out the area, seeing no other body heat, she contacted the Sanctum.

"Clear, only one survivor found," she told him curtly, holding the trembling, half conscious boy close.

A confirmed beep answered her, informing her that her message got through. Pulling him up closely and along, they stumbled through the descruction, with Lightning's guilt feeling heavier and heavier with each step.

This was her fault after all. Cocoon's fall and all the suffering the people are going through. It was her fault after all.

"Steady," she told him, pulling him back up when he suddenly stumbled. "We're almost there, kid. We're almost there."

He gave no answer to show that he heard her; but she did feel his fingers tighten around her waist in a weak desperate grip as she pulled him along.

She returned it with her own comforting squeeze.

She'll make it up, for sure, she'll make it up for the damage done.

She'll start with this kid. She'll help him get steady on his feet; just like she did for Hope.

"We're almost there," she repeated, more to herself this time. "We're almost there."


	4. Subtle Soldier

**requested by MinaDeville for LightningxNoctis, hope you enjoy ;)  
**

* * *

**Subtle Soldier  
**

He couldn't help but stare at her; noting all the small details and seeing how violently they contrasted. Soft looking locks of hair, a heart shaped face, lovely ivory peached skin, and the coldest azure green eyes he's ever seen. Despite the stiff, bitter ice those eyes held for the world, he couldn't help but stare at her.

Maybe because she was so alien to him; after all, it wasn't too often that he saw women in the military.

And for a beauty like, in the military, unscarred and perfect, in every sense, with only a cold attitude to contrast that beauty, he found her entrancing so to speak. Out of all the women he's met, this one has to be the most intriguing. She didn't even seem excited about his appearance; did she even know it was him? Visiting Bodhum for a vacation.

Not likely. Their eyes had met, his deep sapphires met the icy depths of her. He found his breath short and a surge of shy discomfort swell in him; something that's never happened before. He was intrigued.

Only to be discouraged to find that her eyes were still hard and dulled, not even a flicker of emotion swelled in them. She didn't care. Didn't even blink.

It aggravated him slightly, even more so when he found he couldn't approach her like he normally would with other women.

She wouldn't waste her time, or even breath on him. He could already see it. Her eyes would be accusing and sharp; daring him to waste her time while she was on job. She was here as one of his many bodyguards, subtly hanging in the shadows and along the walls after all; she was on job. Her eyes would accuse him of disturbing her while working. He was here to enjoy time off from Nifleim; not mess with GC soldiers.

Women were apart of his vacation though.

And it looked like she wouldn't understand that.

Or more specifically, why he was hitting on _her _to all the free women who weren't on job and certainly had better looks and attitudes.

Even he couldn't understand it, but he found he was attracted to the harder prey that the ones practically offering themselves to him.

Maybe it was the challenge.

Maybe it was time for a change in pace.

Either way, he found himself eager and nervous at the same time.

How to approach her, what to say that would soften her features.

Nothing was coming to mind though.

Noctis huffed to himself. Where was Prompto or Gladious when he needed them? They could help him with this chick. He was confident in his skills as a playboy, but something about this beautified soldier, that seems so rare among all the others, made him pause. How was he going to approach that unapproachable beauty. It was clear she didn't want company tonight. Just form watching her and seeing how she interacted with some of her comrades, she wasn't sociable, even with them. A white haired youth, and sometimes a brown haired boy as well, they'd pop up and talk to her, joking and bored smiles on their faces while a withered look of tired, yet fond annoyance graced her features. Just as quickly as they came to talk to her, she sent them away, back to their post.

It looks like she was all business tonight.

He sighed. He'd get some more alcohol in his system, then he'd make his move.

Before he could completely relax into the night and plot out ways to approach her, a color of white caught his attention.

He paused, turning his head to that white.

It was the white haired boy with the eager green eyes running up to talk to her. It was a tall, black haired man, with dark eyes, dressed in white with armor that shows he was a high rank in the GC. Noctis's eyes swept over the man, watching he mingled good naturally with everyone, and ever charming smile on his lips. Arrogantly, Noctis thought he was far more attractive than this man. The man wasn't unattractive, but he just couldn't compare to him.

But this thought did little to comfort him when he saw that same man approach the strawberry blonde he's been eying and struggling with mentally on how to approach.

Easily, he walked up and stood next to her and the two talked, far longer than the two boys from earlier. He watched enviously, his hand tightening around the wine glass when he saw her crack a grin at what the man said, and in turn, he laughed merrily at what she said.

The two were very familiar with each other. A little too familiar for his comfort. Normally, he would up show the other person, usually right in their face; but he usually knew who he was dealing. He didn't know who she was, and he didn't know who the man was. He'd be playing a gamble here.

Not willing to risk such a gamble, he found he could only stand and watching jealously as they mingled easily and naturally.

Perhaps she didn't care about looks and wealth? He wouldn't call that man wealthy, and his looks didn't compare to his own. Maybe he should try and forget the cold beauty.

That last one was a total lie. He knew well enough, he couldn't forget her, even if he tried.

He sighed and slumped. He was here for about a week, and she was stuck as one of his guards for a week. There was always a chance to talk to her some other time. He'll try later, but for now, he'd observe her, learn what he could, and use it to his advantage.

Just as he was about to move, he bumped into something, more specifically someone.

Blinking in surprise, he looked down and met startled, yet guarded sea green eyes, very close and very similar to the beauty he's been watching all night. Noctis blinked down at the boy, noting the similarities and found few among them; only the eyes seem to match the woman he watched.

The boy had light brown hair, that was a messy mop on his head, and appeared to be roughly nine. The boy was wearing a brown hoodie, with a white shirt underneath, and dark gray shorts with black sneakers. Held securely under his arm was a skateboard with a blood red bottom and a bahamut design on it.

Noctis blinked down at the boy and the boy, in turn, blinked up at him, not looking scared or apologetic at all for bumping into an adult and stranger. Though he really didn't look like the woman he watched the whole evening, he could see her in the boy's eyes, guarded and untrusting, daring him to make the first move.

It almost felt like the boy was challenging him to a fight.

Noctis shook it off, and smiled down at the boy, noticing for the first time that there was a fading white scar on the side of his forehead, almost hidden in the hair. Noctis guessed it came from the skateboard.

"Sorry about that," Noctis bid easily, affectionately ruffling the boy's hair. "Didn't see you there."

"I know," the boy grumbled, pushing his hand away then fixing the mess Noctis made with a dark pout. Noctis found his lips twitching up. This kid was cute.

"What are you doing here?" Noctis asked, "Are you lost?"

"No, I'm here for my mom," the boy answered courtly, shaking his head as one final try to fix his hair.

Noctis arced a brow. His mom? "You're mom's here?" he asked, looking aorund the party for anyone with grown hair that curled slightly and green eyes.

"Yep, now if you'll excuse me," the boy grumbled, pushing past him and running straight to the strawberry blonde. Noctis watched on in surprise at what he saw. The cold woman's features melted into a bliss, heaven praised smile down at the boy; instinctively, he knew it was the same for the kid he just met.

He watched as she bent down, pulling the kid into a tight hug, which the boy returned, wrapping one arm around her tighly, the other holding the skateboard out of the way. The man beside her bid his greetings to the boy before walking off to mingle with other guest. When the woman and the boy separated, they took hands and strolled lazily through the party and out of the door, Noctis's eyes following every step of the way.

The warmest smile he's ever seen never leaving either of their faces, still clutching the other hand tightly.

Noctis decided then, that he really would like to get to know this woman, and her son as well.

Hopefully, she was still single.

* * *

**not very romantic, i know, but i wanted something like a first meeting, or first impression here ^^'**

**the two boys that appeared were Hope and Noel, so in this fic, its like a few years after Lightning found Denzel in _Survivor _and is his adopted guardian. i'll be doing a chapter on that soon and on Denzel meeting other people in the GC like cid raines and rygdea.  
**

**also, remember guys, i'm open to idea request, if there's a pairing you want with lightning or something that involves her and denzel, let me know ;)  
**

**thnx for all reviews and readers!  
**


	5. Unforgiven

**This is a companion chapter to my other story _Forgetting Reality. _in that story, lightning is blind and lost her sight to saving a child. in this, this child is Denzel.**

**so he has no blood relation with lightning in this chapter.  
**

* * *

**Unforgiven  
**

She was finally getting the hang of it. After a struggle of toe stabbing and nearly toppling over a few times, she's finally gotten the hang of walking around and figured out how to use the bloody stick. Even more so, she's figured out how to get around the house, and having a basic idea where everything was. She developed and made her own mental map of the layout of the home she grew up in for twenty one years.

It had been surprising and hard really, both physically and mentally. She had been so frustrated with herself. After living here for twenty one years, she still didn't know the layout enough to walk around without bumping into something, stubbing her toe, or nearly tripping a few times.

After roughly two months of feeling around the house and relearning everything, like a child learning to walk and registering her home; Lightning silently struggled through that frustrating process once again. She had to learn her home again, have a feel for it, and learn how to steady herself so she didn't topple over things like clothes left by Snow.

And the stick was another factor she had to get used too. It was her extended hand, helping her hear and feel her way through the world. Comparing it to the weight of her gunblade, the lightness of her guide stick was much too light, leaving her feeling vulnerable.

She missed her gunblade, and the many other things she could do.

She couldn't even be trusted to cook for herself anymore. Especially when Serah saw her accidentally cut herself in the kitchen when she was slicing up an apple.

It probably wasn't even that big of a cut.

And then there was stepping outside. Serah had to be there every step of the way, and that was a three month process of learning her way around the yard and neighborhood.

At least Fang didn't act like anything was different. She treated Lightning just the same; as if loosing her sight didn't change anything at all. To Fang, it really didn't mean much. It was merely a new challenge to the survival game. Sight for better senses.

Serah of course disagreed; but the Oerba brushed her off and Lightning was thankful for it. In the huntress's eyes, Lightning was the better hunter with the senses she gained for the loss of her eyes.

Serah wouldn't have her blind sister join Fang on behemoth hunts though; but Fang was able to get Lightning to join her on their chocobo hikes. Though rare, there were trained chocobos used to handle the handicap and allow them to enjoy the ride. A chocobo named Etto became Lightning's own personal chocobo to ride with Fang; trained specifically for blind people. Along with Etto, Fang rode her military trained red chocobo, Barrem, as she fondly called the savage bird.

Lightning was begining to miss her own red chocobo, Fray. Rygdea was now in charge of her red chocobo, though she often got word from him that the bird is quite difficult to handle.

Information like that always made an amused, bitter grin grace her face. She was really starting to miss that bird.

"Excuse me."

Lightning paused, slightly leaning against her stick as she titled her head to the voice. It was a child, a boy from the sound of the voice. Narrowing her eyes, Lightning waited to hear him speak again, waiting to confirm what she heard.

"Miss...Farron?" he asked, guessing her last name and confirming exactly what she heard.

A shamed, guilt ridden voice, meek with insecurity and coated in a heavy apologetic tone. Now that she thinks about it, she's heard it before, only it was a mangled mess of broken cries then. She remembers him, he often left a puddle soaked into her bed at the hospital, crying himself to sleep while tangled apologies flew out of his mouth.

"Denzel?" she returned, having heard his name a few times.

"Yes ma'am," came the weak, trembling voice.

"I haven't seen you in a while," she offered after a long pause. The shuffled of feet informed her that he flinched at that sentence. Ignoring his discomfort, she waved him up and to her side. She heard through his steps and he slipped closer and unsure by her side; despite his unease, he came close, close enough to feel the heat off his body. "How have you been?" she asked.

"Fine," he murmured.

"How's school?"

"It's ok."

She sighed softly, closing her eyes as she debated where to take this. "Do you live around here?"

"Close..."

"So do I," she offered, turning to him with small smile, still not opening her eyes for him to see.

Another shuffled of feet, that was all the warning she had till she was attacked with a desperate hug. "I'm so sorry Miss Farron!" he cried, pressing his face against her body, allowing her to feel the shivers raking up his body. Acting on her own, she reached down, her hand snaking to his back, where she rubbed it slowly.

"Its fine Denzel," she stated.

"Its not!" he screamed, muffled in her clothes. "Your blind! Because of me! Its my fault! All my fault!"

"Denzel."

"I'm so sorry," he broke, crumbled against her. "If I wasn't there, you wouldn't have lost your sight. I don't know how to repay you either, you've lost too much..."

The hand that held him up against her body left, allowing him to slip down to his knees as he leaned against her. "Will you ever forgive me?" he mumbled against her.

"No," she said, stepping away from him and crouching down. Reaching out, she lightly and gently touched his face. Like she had practiced with Serah, she went over his features, tracing and memorizing them with her finger tips. His face shaped and molded in her mind as her hand went over him. Then it rose up, and tussled his hair. She noted with a small smile that his hair soft, a soft tangled mess around her fingers.

"Were you the one that brought the beam down?" she asked.

"No," he mumbled out.

"I didn't think so. You were but a bystander Denzel. Even if it wasn't you, I would have done the same for anyone and could have lost my sight still; or it could have been worse. I won't accept your apology Denzel. If you apologize, its for something that you did yourself; you didn't bring that beam down yourself. You have no reason to apologize." Her hand fell from his hair, and rested on his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. "If anything, all you have is a debt to pay."

"How can I repay it?" he asked.

She allowed a rare smile on her face. "How about we go chocobo riding? Just you and me."

"I've never ridden a chocobo."

"You'll like it," she assured.

"Its ok then? For you to ride chocobos?" he asked.

"I blind, not cripple," she said humorlessly as she rose, dragging him up with her. "There is a lot of things I can still do, if given a chance too. I can still ride a chocobo. I can probably even teach you."

"When should we go?"

"Whenever you want."

"...thank you."

"No problem Denzel."


	6. Advent Angel

**Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy; truthfully, it reminds me of Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask. if you haven't heard yet, look it up, its the end of FF13's story.  
**

**This is another chapter where Lightning and Denzel aren't related, takes place in Advent Children, specifically the Completed version, right after the girl with the moogle carries off her dying brother and leaving him alone on the step. Lightning is one of many living in Midgar.**

* * *

**Advent Angel  
**

"Soda?"

Denzel jerked up, blinking in surprise when he saw the bottle held out in front of him, dark liquid bubbling endlessly. Following the hand that held it, he saw a woman about both Tifa and Cloud's age before him, long, faded strawberry hair fell around her shoulders, her blue eyes dim with life. She looked like she had seen the worst of life, over and over again.

The soda was lightly shaken before him, reminding him of the carbonated drink. He turned away with a grimace, darkly muttering, "I have Geostigma."

"I know."

He jerked at that, looking up at her with wide eyes. She knew? And she was still here, offering him the drink? Everyone avoided people with Geostigma, in fear they would catch it too. He narrowed his eyes, eyeing her skin, looking for the dark, dirt colored blotches that leaked muddied blood every few hours.

He saw none, though she had the eyes of someone that had it. They were as dim and tired as his own whenever he looked into the mirror; maybe she did have it, just somewhere under her clothes. Quietly, he took the drink, spun the cap off and pressed the rim to his lips. As soon as the sugared drink touched his tongue, his eyes fell closed as he relished the drink, downing nearly half in one gulp. He sighed contently when he lowered it, the tingle of carbon dancing across his tongue made him smile slightly, remembering better days.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"You needed it," she eased, setting herself right next to him on the step and leaning on her knees as she stared out at Midgar with him. "The Planet knows how we all could use a rare treat."

"Do you have it?" he asked, leaning forward to get a better look, just to see if he really could detect any signs.

"Probably," she shrugged, turning to him. "My sister had it."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Its fine," she eased though she had a heavy and sad expression on her face. "I'm not afraid of getting it. I probably already have, just like the rest of this city. We all have the Geostigma in us, it just hasn't shown itself yet."

"What makes you think that?" Denzel asked.

"Look at Midgar, the city isn't what it used to be. Despite the people still hanging around with smile on their faces, those smiles still don't reach their eyes, everyone's a bit depressed here, everyone's a bit lost and scared; everyone is dying, some faster than others." She sighed, shaking her head as if she was disappointed with Midgar. "Its become a whole mess, if anything. Maybe too big of a mess. It could very well be out last."

"You sound like you've seen this before," Denzel grumbled, clutching the soda bottle tighter. He didn't like what she was saying and where it was going. Thinking about Cloud, Denzel frowned worried at her words. Cloud hasn't come back home in a long time, just this fact alone seem to confirm her words. If Cloud doesn't come back, like he should, what did that mean for the rest of them? If he was gone, did that mean the rest of them would gradually disappear as well?

"You could say that."

He looked at her, blinking baffledly.

"I've seen a lot," she offered, though didn't say anymore to him.

Denzel looked away from her, and down at the dirty, city floor, his eyes drooping wearily as he begun to feel light headed. Pressing his hand to his forehead, he moved it back to see his hand covered in black blood. He grimaced at the sight, tilled a hand came over his, sweeping the dark liquid away. He looked up at the stranger next to him in surprise; there was no grimace on her face as she touched the dirty substance and swept it away. Her face was neutral about it.

"Yo, you'll catch it for sure," he said shakily.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his own. In a clear, clam voice, she said, "I already have it." She squeezed his hand gently, oblivious to the hiss of liquid between their hands.

"How can you be so calm about it?" he wondered aloud.

"I could fear it, and suffer through it, or, I could be stronger than the Stigma, not let control me. Better die a fighter than a lonely coward. Remember that Denzel." She squeezed his hand one more time before she got up, leaving him alone with the soda.

"Wait!" he called out, standing up as well.

She paused, turning her head to glance over at him.

"How do you know my name? Do I know you?" he asked quickly, clutching the soda even tighter.

She stared at him, silent for a few moments. He stared back at her, waiting. Finally, she said, "I've seen you a few times." With that, she turned away and walked off into a dark ally, disappearing from his sight.

Denzel had to blink a couple of times though. For a second, it looked like she had wings; six white wings.

* * *

**truthfully, while working on this, i was torn between making lightning a normal person that just lives in Midgar, or to make her something more... mystical. torn as i was, i decided to blend a little of both. the mystical side could be lightning being related to Etro in some sense, as a guardian angel.**

**also, ragnaroks design in FF13 shows that it has six wings, and Cid Raines ended up having six wings as well.  
**


	7. Guardian Corp

**takes on after Survivor with Lightning as his adopted guardian. Its been a few years in this one, and the two are pretty comfortable with each other. also, there is implications of Cid Raines and Lightning  
**

**and since this is the aftermath of FF13, i know that Cid Raines should be dead, but lets just go with that he and a few others survived through it ^^'  
**

**this will also show how Denzel interacts with some in the GC. and this has to be one of the longest chapters yet ;)  
**

* * *

**Guardian Corp**

"You snuck a chocobo chick to school?" she asked, baffled and amused. She glanced down at him, eye brow raised and her lips quirking up slightly. "Were you caught?" she went on.

"Nope," Denzel declared proudly, a broad smile on his face as he turned and gazed up at his guardian, his sea green eyes glowing in mirth. "Marlene, Dajh, and I even switched Chobi around all day. The teachers didn't even notice!"

Lightning shook her head, opening the door to Guardian Corp's HQ, and allowing her adopted son to slip in before her. "If your caught," she warned.

"We'll accept full responsibility," Denzel grumbled, rolling his eyes as he walked past her, already having heard most of this.

"If there's a fine, its coming out of your allowance too," she added courtly, closing the jerked at that. He turned to her, his eyes wide, his mouth open for protest; she is just as fast at cutting him off.

"But-"

"No buts. There's a reason why they don't have chocobos at school Denzel."

He huffed and turned away from her, stalking down the hall. "They should," he grumbled.

"Maybe if people still rode chocobos to get around," she offered, leading him trough the thin crowd to her office. "But now now."

"Doesn't the GC use chocobos now?" Denzel offered, seeking some form of stand point on this matter.

"Yes, specifically the red chocoboes, much more aggressive in nature, even black sometimes, though those are a bit harder to find," she answered. Denzel found himself grinning proudly at her words. Before he could point out that chocobos were still used, she immediately said, "But this is the GC, school has no use for chocobos, Denzel."

"Biology," he offered weakly.

"Still not good enough, plus, don't you only go over animals for a couple of days?" she asked.

"Yes," he grumbled.

"Then I'm sure they'll be mentioned," she declared, lightly pressing her hand to his shoulder and gently pushing him along, both ignoring the curious stares shot their way. It wasn't often that Sergeant Lightning Farron was seen with her adopted son at work. This had to be his third time here, the first two times were a pop in to grab some work to take it home. Both times, Denzel's head was in a constant, frantic surge as he struggled to see everything in the building while his guardian dragged him along to her office. By this time though, he has seen most of building and was familiar enough not to see everything; even had a good idea how to get to Light's office.

"For now, just focus on doing your work. We're having alfredo pasta with chicken tonight," Lightning alerted him, stopping and unlocking her office door.

"Alright," Denzel relented, speeding up and away from her resting hand and plopping into her wheeled chair in her office as soon as the door was opened. Eagerly, he spun around, taking in everything and grinning fondly at his guardian's office. Out of all of the few offices he has seen here when he followed Lightning while she was dropping off paperwork with her coworkers, Lightning's had to be one of his favorites.

For one thing, though her room was as white and as clean as it was supposed to be, she added her own touch of things, and Serah did as well, and Light seemed to have grown fond of the sight of the addition to not toss away or arrange.

Lightning had a good sized brown desk in her room with a black computer. Paperwork was stacked neatly on her desk and pencils and pens were held in a moogle cup Serah bought for her. There were also pictures of the Farrons and Denzel himself laid out on the desk for Light to see. Pictures of them at the beach, in their youth, and a special placed one just for the ones that knew where to look to see; a picture of their parents.

Denzel eyed the aged picture of Farrens longingly. A seven year old Lightning stood in front of her father with a four year old Serah in her mother's arms. Both parents stood behind them, their father beaming brightly, and their mother had the subtle, small, beautiful smile that Lightning always had when she allowed a moment to smile.

A shuffle of papers made Denzel look up and away from the photo, watching his guardian busy herself with looking through the paperwork, signing, and stacking them again in different piles. Kicking off and spinning around again, he eyed the paintings and pictures on the wall, complementarity of Serah.

Most paintings were of the Farrens, with one of Odin, the god of truth and user of lightning; and the great inspiration of her bike's name. Denzel stared fondly at the ivory metal horse like creature, posed in a run on one painting.

The painting next to Odin though caught his attention. He pushed out of the chair and slipped towards the painting. Lightning looked up from her work, noticing his movement, and eyeing the newest addition. "Serah brought that in a couple of days ago," she offered, stepping closer to him and resting her hand on his shoulder.

"I like it," Denzel declared, smiling up at the painting. It had to be one of those sneaky pictures Serah took on family outings. This one looked like it was from the beach that they went to roughly a week ago. It was a picture of Lightning and him on a beach towel, their back to the viewer, with Snow and the rest of Nora plus Hope, Fang, and Vanille all playing ball. The only one missing from the photo was Serah, who likely took the photo and had it painted into a larger picture.

He grinned, already seeing the younger Farron barge into Lightning's office, ignoring all stares shot her way as she went ahead and hung up the picture. Then she would leave with a happy and fond farewell, leaving the picture up in Light's office; as well as leave a baffled sister behind.

"That was a fun day," Denzel declared, remembering it. Light spent half the day half asleep enjoying the warm sun while everyone else played volley ball or swam. Denzel, Marlene, and Dajh even made the biggest sand castle yet. After lunch, they all played sniper with water guns, and Lightning won easily, she danced and dodged on the sand, the water shot at her easily missed, and she shot down everyone at least once (though Snow was unfortunate enough to get killed about twenty times).

"Surprisingly," Lightning agreed, smirking at the memory of "killing" Snow over and over again. Such good times.

Denzel turned and glared playfully at his guardian. "You still need to teach me how to do that," he said tersely.

Lightning returned the light glare. "I try, but someone refuses to come out of bed to jog with me."

"But that's five in the morning!" he complained.

"Unfortunately, that's the time she likes to rise."

They both turned to see a tanned woman with wild, brown locks, and glowing, playful blue eyes gleaming at them as she smirked fondly. Like Lightning, she wore a Guardian Corp uniform, only her vest was unbuttoned, and she wore a black top underneath with a blue shorts. On her back, was her ruby spear.

"Fang!" Denzel exclaimed in delight, rushing up to the woman. Lightning smiled, shaking her head at the woman. Turning away, she returned to her desk, going back to arranging the papers.

"Hello Denzel," Fang chimed, laughter tinkling her voice as she crouched down and welcomed him in a secure embrace and even nuzzled him fondly, making his laugh as he returned the nudge. He drew back and declared with gleeful pride, "Marlene, Dajh, and I snuck Chobi to school!"

"You did?" Fang exclaimed.

"Yep."

"And no one noticed?"

"Nope, no one suspected a thing," he said proudly.

Fang beamed at him, "Alright Denzel!" She rose, proudly ruffling his hair, "You need that sort of stealth if your going to be a warrior!"

"Fang, don't encourage him," Lightning warned, tapping some papers to make them straight and neat.

"Oh come on Light, how else is he to practice? You agreed to teach him how to fight," Fang reasoned.

"He's been lazy though, I can't make much progress if he can't be serious," she reasoned easily.

"You're the one that being unreasonable," Denzel grumbled childishly. "And I already know how to run, I want to learn to fight, jump, and punch people like you do," he insisted.

"That takes strong muscles," Lightning said, glancing at him. "And I didn't say run, I said jog. And if you don't want to jog, we could always dance."

"Dance!" he exclaimed, a look of displeasure on his face.

"Every warrior knows how to dance," Fang agreed. She went on when Denzel looked up at her. "every warrior has their own touch of grace to them, correct?"

"Yeah," Denzel agreed.

"Dancing, is what helps bring out that grace," Fang offered. Raising her arms, she started to move around Denzel, placing her feet right and moving swiftly around. "It helps bring out the warriors flexibility, balance, endurance, and strength. Dancing, it not something anyone can do, especially the dances Light and I can do. Our dance is made strictly for moving around in battle, avoiding bullets, blades, and bodies; as well as moving in for our own hit." She paused, her form tensed and crouched, poised on defense, yet ready to strike. She looked at him, smirking, "If you learned how to dance, you could fight like me and Lightning."

"Or you could learn to be a simple shooter, though I do advise learning some basic self defense if you get stuck in a close range fight."

"Amodar," Lightning bid, taking the stack under her arm and nodding respectfully to her higher up.

"Having a party Farron?" Amodar joked.

"Apparently sir," she declared with a shrug. She's gotten used to her new family barging into her house and office uninvited and randomly. Mindful, at first, she did try to keep them away as long as she could; but it got to a point that she no longer cared and has grown used to seeing them around her home and office.

He chuckled, grinning as he nodded to Denzel. "What are you in here for son?" he asked, in a fond tone.

"Light has to work late and both Serah and Snow have plans tonight," Denzel explained.

"So you'll be hanging till its time to go," Amodar mused.

"Yes sir," Denzel declared naturally. Amodar chuckled, grinning. Looking up, he said, "Oebra, I need you; some corpols are going on patrol; mine grabbing your chocobo and leading that patrol? Its outside along the edge of Bodhum. I want you there in case we risk a behemoth attack."

"Yes sir!" Fang exclaimed, practically gleaming at the mention of a behemoth.

"Would I be needed as well?" Lightning asked.

Amodar shook his head, "At ease Farron. This is the last patrol till the night shift."

"Very well, I need to send this to the Sactum, Denzel would you watch the office while I'm gone?" Lightning asked, glancing at him.

"Sure," Denzel said, plopping into the wheeled chair again and spinning around.

"See you later Denzel," Fang bid as she and Amodar left; Lightning followed only to go the other direction. She looked back at him, stating, "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"I'll be here," he eased.

With a nod, he was left alone in the office. Rolling the seat around, he stared at the newest painting that Serah dropped off, smiling despite himself. That really was one of the best days he's spent with Lightning and her family; it reminded him of his own family though, the one he lost on that fateful day.

He might have joined them if Lightning hadn't found him.

He remembers it well.

The world was a mess with buildings collapsing, people running frantically in panic, not understanding what was going on. During the panic, he had been separated from his parents and left to the mercy of a fear stricken crowd of civilians. He had been one of those civilians that had a building collapse on them. He didn't remember how it happened of how he miraculously survived. All he knew was that he was shoved to the ground and the next time he opened his eyes, it was black all around, and the air was bad and full of dust and dirt. He could scarcely move, and his body felt as heavy as lead, and his head even more so.

He thought he was going to die.

He probably was. For some reason, he couldn't sit with that fact. He struggled weakly against the weight around him; only to have the sudden strength zapped away as quickly as it came, and he found himself crumbling back onto the ground in a heap; his eyes barely open and his body practically numb and his breath uneven as he choked on the air.

He was going die, it seemed his body accepted that.

Just as he closed his eyes, he was roused when he felt a jolt of energy surge through the area. Blinking tiredly, he watched and listened as stones were shifted and moved away, and then she appeared. Her heart shaped, porcelain skin, dusted with dirt, a gas over her nose and mouth and a pair of goggles on her eyes. Pale pink hair framed around her.

She was caked with dirt, but to Denzel, she was the most beautiful sight he's seen. Even without his fogged up mind, he still calls Lightning beautiful.

And it seemed confirmed when he felt something pressed against his face, and suddenly, he could breath easily. She reached in, pulled him free, and held him up against her and out of the darkness. Through hazed eyes, he remembers seeing a sad landscape in front of him, crumbled and torn.

He felt her give him a comforting squeeze before she started to drag him along. Stumbling, he followed, half deaf to the words he heard her say. He understood though, holding her tightly as he was dragged along.

"We're almost there," he heard her gentle voice soothe.

He really believed her.

* * *

They should just go out to eat, Lightning decided, running a hand through her hair in slight frustration.

For delivering paperwork to the Sanctum, specifically someone important in the PSICOM, it turned out to be a lot longer than she had imagined.

She had found a familiar face to give the paperwork too: Yaag Rosch.

He was one of few miracles during the mess of their time as l'Cie. When he set off the explosion to save them from the behemoths, he had survived the explosion, though his condition had been critical. He lived through it all with a hurt leg and lives with a limp. Despite this, Sanctum offered him place back in the PSICOM, though he was to never go back into the field.

As much as it was a relief to see that he had survived, their relationship was still a tense, uneasy one. WHen they met up, instead of simply handing the paperwork to him, maybe a few pleasantries, then she'd be on her way home to make dinner and spend the rest of evening relaxing.

It didn't go as planned though.

Though they're not on friend terms, Rosch seemed to have felt that they should, at least, chat and check up on how both forms of militia of the Sanctum were fairing. Reluctantly, Lightning found herself swallowed into the conversation.

He admitted that it has been hard working for the Sanctum with his leg, and not a lot of people took him seriously or didn't give him satisfying jobs. But his experience was treasured, and became an adviser as well as mentor for training PSICOM troops.

Lightning admits that life has been tense in the GC after rejoining. Because she was a l'Cie, her comrades weren't as comfortable around her, some didn't even trust her anymore, despite that the brands left. With Fang joining the GC as well, and Amodar's trust, it has been bearable; though she admits that it has been frustrating that some soldiers will be difficult just because of what she did.

"Would you be so friendly with someone that used to be a l'Cie?" Rosch had asked.

"I'm not friendly in general," she had offered, "but probably not. More so to what they did, other than what they were. I can understand why people are acting as they are, but it's still frustrating."

"You're a good soldier, and probably one of the best in the GC, it'll even out with time. You just need to keep reminding them."

"Thank you Rosch."

"Of course Farron."

They had parted on that, and Lightning soon found that they had talked for nearly an hour. What was 5:47 was now 6:32. It really wasn't supposed to be that long.

"Bet Denzel's playing games on my computer," Lightning muttered, half annoyed, half fond.

Serah used to do that too, when Lightning would pick her up and she had to wait in her office till she was out of a meeting. With her homework done, she'd get on to her computer and play games till Lightning came back and it was time to go. Personally, she didn't like it, but she wouldn't deny that it got boring waiting around.

Maybe that was one of the reasons Serah attacked her room with paintings.

Shaking her head with a sigh, she slipped into her room, blinking when she saw Denzel curled up in her chair, passed out. She arced an eye brow at him. He dozed off? He really dozed off? Frowning, she approached him quietly, bending down and peering at him.

It was confirmed. He was out, like a light.

Lightning found her lips twitching up fondly. This wasn't something Serah did; Farrons hardly ever took naps unless they sick, but that was usually it. The one that took naps was Hope. She remembers that he would try to keep watch with her, but always fell asleep roughly three hours into it.

Turning away, she grabbed his back and slung it over her shoulder. Peering around the room intently, she didn't anything she necessarily had to take home. Turning back to Denzel, she gently nudged him, rousing him enough to hear her.

"It's time to go home Denzel," she whispered.

He merely hummed as he pushed himself out of the chair sloppily; practically falling on her. Like before, couple of years before, she wrapped her arm around him, holding him up. Slowly, she dragged him out of her office, pausing only to lock it, with Denzel leaning against her.

"Need help?"

She looked up to see Cid Raines standing before her, grinning slightly. His white uniform and cape was shed off, revealing a loose, black shirt with his charcoal pants.

"Raines," she bid warily, one arm still wrapped around Denzel, keeping him close as she locked up.

Cid stepped forward, placing a hand on Denzel, and taking some of his weight off Lightning, allowing the boy to lean against him. Lightning shot him a grateful look as she took the chance to adjust his bag on her back.

"Would you like a ride back?" he asked.

She looked up at him, raising her brow again.

"Denzel could sleep," he offered, "and you could get a break. I heard from Amodar today on patrol that you were stuck with paperwork all day. Also, I could pick you both up in the morning since I know you brought Odin with you today." The last was added after a terse thought.

Lightning frowned, considering him.

Cid Raines was another miracle, one that she was truly relieved to see alive.

She met Cid and Rygdea in the Academy, her first year as a freshman, and the two were playful, bored seniors that found her interesting enough to drag around. Cid always had the level head, she remembers, though he was known to flirt time to time. Rygdea, she remembers fondly, was the real joker, and flirted all the time. They lost contact though after they graduated, and she allowed the Academy to shape her into a soldier.

And then they meet again.

Only he was another l'Cie, forced to work for Dysley and mentally tormented by the fal'Cie as well. To a point that when he was finally saved by Rygdea, he asked his best friend to kill him. The news was a bitter stab at Lightning when Rygdea explained what happened with Raines.

Rygdea refused, and they knocked out Cid instead, taking him to hospital and therapeutic help.

Truthfully, time to time, all past l'Cie have past nightmares about the fal'Cie. Cid had it worse than them though, especially since he had been controlled by a fal'Cie.

If it was bad enough, she found her old friend on her doorstep, practically collapsing on her, trembling at the memories and visions that swelled before his eyes and filled his mind.

Thankfully, after the first few years, he started to get better, and fewer; he even started to get better mentally as well. He was invited back into the GC, which he took up. As of recently, he was returned to his job as General, only with Rygdea also a General.

Now that she thought about it, she was due to Officer training.

"Lightning?"

She blinked noting that Cid was closer, his taller form hovering over her, a hand still on the dozing Denzel close to him, keeping the boy from toppling.

"Sorry," she said, waving him off. "I'm fine, just thinking."

He offered a small smile, and his eyes seemed bluer than before, swelling slightly with emotions; making Lightning blink just to make sure she saw right. Before she could confirm it though, he turned away, coughing into his free hand. Clearing his throat, he said, "Anyway, do you want a ride?"

She cracked a grin as well, nodding to her old friend.

"We'd love a ride."

* * *

**i was informed that in an interview about Lightning and Serah's parents, specifically their father, it was said that their father was similar to Snow. **

**personally, i like to think that one of Light's parents were in the GC, and that helped inspire her to join the GC. i like to think it was her father; for Lightning probably has a better chance remembering him better than Serah, especially since he died when they were young, and Lightning is about three years older than Serah; its likely she has the better memory of him.  
**

**there is also the possibility that their mother could have been in the GC as well. its hard to say; but i like to think that one of them were in the GC and it helped inspire Light to choose to join them.**

**also, i would say that cid raines and lightning had some form of history. does anyone notice that lightning reacts pretty badly when he betrays them? i think they had a history together, maybe romantic, maybe not. maybe they were friends during militia school and she was dragged around by rygdea and cid (i'd like to think so ;) if cid had more screen time, i think he and lightning would be a good pair in FF13. if only.  
**


	8. Snow

**this chapter is a continuation of Denzel being Lightning's nephew. now in this chapter, though it was suggested that i kill off Snow, i decided to give it a try at Denzel meeting Snow. **

**this is not LightningxSnow; i would never pair her up with that idiot ever XP  
**

**truthfully, i really hate snow, but i thought this would be an interesting chapter to write; especially for serah's son to meet her ex-fiance.  
**

**also, serah and snow broke up on their own and became more friends, especially when she went up to Eden for college and met Noel there.  
**

**either way, enjoy and look out for an awkward dinner ^^;  
**

* * *

**Snow  
**

Denzel set the bowl on the table, eyeing it and all the other foods and beverages placed around. This was almost the same as when his mother and father got ready for guest. Usually, there would be many joining them in the evening; both his parents were quite sociable after all. Tonight though, it was going to be three people; him, his aunt, and a man named Snow.

This was a lot of food for just three people though.

Maybe Snow ate a lot?

"Table set?" his aunt called, still rummaging in the kitchen.

"Yeah," he called out, shifting some items around though, just for perfection.

Lightning slipped into the room, adding a small bowl of sauce. Then she stepped back, peering over the table, and nodding contently. "We're ready," she declared, resting a hand lightly on Denzel's shoulder. The boy nodded, silently agreeing with her. Leaning back, he rested against her, still debating why his aunt prepared so much food.

Another thought suddenly crossed his mind though. Turning, he peered up at his aunt, asking, "What is Snow going to get here?"

Lightning's satisfied smirk fell to a frustrated, wary frown. Her other hand went up, smearing over her face as she sighed heavily. "Truthfully, I have no idea," she admitted. "Snow isn't that well known to always be on time. Pray to Etro that he won't be too late," she grumbled out, moving away from Denzel and towards the kitchen.

"What if he is late?" Denzel asked, following his aunt into the kitchen.

"I'm going to kick him down the steps," Lightning said simply.

Denzel found his own lips jerked up as he gave a small chuckle. His mother wouldn't have agreed with his aunt, but he found he was growing use, and fond of his aunt's humor, no matter how hidden and violent it could be.

Before he could say anymore though, the doorbell rang, filling her house up in music.

"Good, he's here," Lightning muttered.

"I'll get it!" Denzel said quickly, then he zipped off towards the door before Lightning could say anything.

This whole past week, since a sudden, random phone call, his aunt had been grumbling about this Snow, and has been flipping through all the cook books they owned. It had been confirmed the past Wednesday that Snow was dining with them tonight. For whatever the reason, he wanted to meet Denzel.

Denzel wanted to meet him too; he wanted to see what sort of man this Snow was. Lightning wouldn't tell him much, no matter how many times he asked. She just shook her head with a grimace, leaving him hanging on his own. Till this night that is. Now, he was going to meet this Snow, someone that was in his mother's past. Lightning had confirmed that Snow and Serah were close. He wanted to see why his mother would be so close with this man; another stranger he was going to meet in Bodhum.

In his eagerness, he slid the door open and peeked out, his head angled up to finally see this man's face.

Only he saw a large, broad chest covered in a white shirt with a trench coat hung over it. Blinking in surprise, Denzel kept looking up and up, his eyes widening when he stared up, seeing the biggest man he's ever met. Broad and tall, Denzel was shocked mute to realize that this man would even tower over Marlene's own father. He was young as well, roughly the same age as his aunt. Light blonde hair reached out in mess under his black sock hat, and he had a growing, light stubble on his tanned chin as well.

Wide, grayish blue eyes stared down at him. "Denzel?" a soft, curious voice asked, sounding just as baffled as he looked as he stared down at the boy at the door.

A hand on Denzel's shoulder woke him from his mute awe, gently pulling him back against the body.

"Snow," Ligtning bid, staring coolly up at the man.

Snow blinked a few times, before his eyes closed and he offered an uneasy grin. "Hey sis," he offered weakly. "You look like you have been doing well."

"Life is as steady as ever," she confirmed, not even reacting to the "sis" comment. Denzel eyed the two curiously, frowning at the name the man called his aunt. Was he an uncle he never knew of?

Snow turned to him, grinning brightly, "So you're Denzel?" he asked.

"And you're Snow?" Denzel returned.

He jumped slighlty when Snow threw his head back and laughed. "You even sound like Lightning!" Snow exclaimed. Still laughing, he asked, "How long have you two been living together?"

"For a while," Lightning answered, lightly pushing Denzel to the kitchen. "How about you go on ahead Denzel, Snow and I will be in a minute."

"Alright," Denzel bid, glancing at the man again curiously before he ran off towards the kitchen.

As soon as the boy was gone, the man visibly deflated. "He doesn't look a thing like Serah," he murmured to himself.

"Would it really be easier if he did?" Lightning reasoned.

"I guess not," he mumbled, still staring down the hall.

"He has her eyes," she said gently, reaching out, she gave his shoulder a light squeeze before following her nephew to the kitchen. Snow frowned after them, rolling his shoulders stiffly, he followed, hands stuffed in his pockets, and an unsteady grin on his face.

Dinner wasn't as awkward as both the adults feared. Snow and Denzel were in active conversation, asking and probbing each other, laughing at their stories, and learning everything they could about each other and how Serah was like for both of them; Lightning ate her food silently, listening with half an ear.

Snow was content and pleased to find how well Serah and Lightning both are with parenting, and how well Denzel was growing and adjusting to life in Bodhum, despite the loss. Lightning has done a good job filling up the hole there. It was a bit of a hard dinner for him though. This was the child of Serah and another man after all. He had a stranger's brown hair, tanned skin, and face. He had Serah's eyes, like Lightning had said, and he could see them; but he was getting a little depressed when he wasn't finding much of his mother in the boy. It was looking like he was more like his father than his mother. He swallowed up his discomfort though, pushing past Denzel's features so that he could really enjoy the boy's presence, despite who his parents were.

Even if he wasn't his own, he found himself loving the kid just the same.

And Denzel, he was starting to see how his mother got along with Snow. Despite his intimidating size, he was an easy going man with an open sense of humor. Snow had been delighted to learn that Denzel and Dajh got along, and were going to the same school. He even burst out laughing when Denzel told the story of both of them, and a girl named Marlene, sneaking a chocobo chick to school for the whole day, and they weren't caught.

Lightning herself, was quite happy with the dinner as well. Nothing ended up burned.

"It was a great dinner sis," Snow declared, slouching back contently as Lightning started to gather up the dishes and leftovers.

"Don't get used to it," she stated, disappearing into the kitchen. Snow rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Denzel with a fond smile.

"Hey Snow," Denzel piped.

Snow answered in a lazy hum.

"Why do you call Light sis?" Denzel asked.

Snow jerked up, a little wide eyed. He glanced at Denzel, offering a sheepish grin. "Well..." he trailed, his mind flying as he struggled to sort out what to tell the boy. It was clear that Lightning never told Denzel about him and Serah; he got that from his playful banter with the boy. Would it really be alright to tell Denzel that he and Serah were lovers?

Would he be alright with it?

Before he come to a conclusion, Lightning answered for him as she slipped in for another plate.

"Snow is a really close friend of ours, close enough that we consider him apart of the family," she said, disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Really?" Denzel asked.

"Yeah, we, we were tight, sis, Serah, and I... we were a family, though a little rough around the edges," Snow said, backing up Lightning shakily.

Denzel smiled at him, making him blink slightly, his eyes widening. It was the same smile Serah would always have, just for him.

"I can see why my mother liked you," Denzel mused, his eyes shining.

Snow grinned back at him. "I can see why she'd love you," he returned, reaching over and ruffling Denzel's hair on purpose, laughing as the boy struggled against, whining about his hair.

In the kitchen, Lightning was satisfied.

It really was a very successful dinner.


	9. Stray

**lightning and denzel have no blood relations, but she will become a guardian.  
**

** in this, it takes place before FF7, and just a little after Crisis Core. truth to be told, lightning won't have much, if any role in FF7, this focuses more on Denzel's story, though chapters of this appear, they might be by chance, haven't decided yet.  
**

* * *

**Stray  
**

They first met before the fall of Secor 7.

Truth to be told, they would not have noticed each at all; if his mother did not see her. Following her gaze, Denzel saw her for the first time. He didn't think much of her the first time he saw her, truthfully. She was hidden in the shadows of an alley, with a dark cloak hanging loosely around her. She would have blended well into the shadows, if it wasn't for her glowing blue eyes, peeking out occasionally to eye every passing person.

Then, he didn't fully understand what it meant to have glowing eyes. But his mother did. She tensed by his side; now, he understands that she was torn. Torn between giving the shadow the help she always gave, or just walking on and forgetting that that shadow was ever seen. He didn't know what it meant to have glowing eyes; he didn't understand the whispers of abomination and monster were breathed on everyone lips.

He didn't know who those words were directed at; who people were even talking about.

All he could tell was that the stranger's eyes glowed in the darkness around them, and that everyone avoided it or didn't even dare casting a passing glance at the stranger. Denzel has wondered, time to time, what would have happened if his mother just went on, ignoring the stranger.

Would he be where he was now? He didn't know and had no way of knowing truthfully.

He doesn't regret her decision then, though.

When his mother finally decided, she dragged him home, heated up the soup they were having for dinner, she gave him a bowl, and told him to give it to the shadow they saw earlier.

Before he left, she made it clear that they were not to tell daddy. Uneasy and confused; dad didn't mind them giving food, what made this stranger with glowing eyes so different?

He really understands now, he really does.

His mom didn't answer him, she never did, or even got the chance too. She had gently ushered him out the door and towards the stranger, watching intently from the window. Nervous by his mom's unease, he walked unsteadily towards the cloaked stranger. The stranger's head shot up at his approached, and cold, pale, glowing blue eyes watched him as he got closer, with each, unsteady step. When he was before the stranger, seeing those glowing eyes clearly, he almost dropped bowl mom gave him by the intensity of those eyes.

Emotions swelled over those eyes as they stared and judged him. They were curious and patient, but tensely guarded. There was also sadness, and an emotion he didn't understand or know at the time. Nostalgia. A feeling he would understand in time.

Licking his lips nervously, he offered the bowl to the cloaked stranger. Those blue eyes flickered to the bowl, watching the steam rise form the rim. The cloak shifted, and aged black gloves reached out, gently taking the bowl from him. In a soft, hoarse voice, the stranger bid a gentle, "Thank you."

Denzel offered a small smile, settling down before the stranger to wait. Steadily, he watched as the stranger ate, struggling to see the details through the dark cloak around the stranger. But he could only make out pale skin and a pointed chin. The skin around the eyes he could see a little bit as well. The glow of the eyes cast a dim light around the skin. But even then, through the light, he could scarcely see the details of the face.

With only a puddle of broth left in the bottom of the bowl, the stranger offered it back to him, nodding gratefully; the glowing blue eyes dimmed from tension to relieved neutrality. "Who are you," Denzel wondered aloud, taking the bowl from her. The glowing eyes flickered to him, blinking slightly.

Denzel quickly realized what he just asked. Flushing darkly, he stammered, "I, I'm sorry! I, didn't mean to ask, I, I was just thinking. You don't have to-"

"My name was Lightning."

He paused, not really expecting her to answer at all. He stared up at her, blinking wide eyed. "Lightning?" he repeated.

The hood of the cloak titled forward in a small nod.

"What do you mean was?" he wondered.

The cloak didn't answer, those eyes dimming as the stranger merely shook the hood in a mute, sad no. The phantom eyes opened again, staring at him.

"Maybe another time," came the reply.

"How long will you be staying?" he asked.

The cloaked shrug. "I don't know," came the honest reply.

Denzel offered a small smile, "Maybe," he offered, "we could talk again tomorrow?"

The hood tilted, those pale blues eyeing him. The hood tilted forward, and he could hear the smile in the shadow's voice when it said a gentle, "Perhaps."

"I'm Denzel," he said, offering her his hand.

A larger hand slipped out, but smaller and leaner than his father's; it was similar to his mother's. Was the stranger a woman?

"Thank you Denzel, and tell your mother I say thanks as well," the hood said. Denzel noted that the cloaked figure's voice really did have a feminine touch to it. Smiling at her, he turned away, wandering back to his house, pausing suddenly. He turned back to her. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Denzel asked.

"Perhaps," came the calm reply. Denzel smiled, curiosity filling his eyes. He was eager to learn about this new stranger. Despite how wary his mother was; and how his father might not like it; he was curious and eager to meet this new character that had slipped into their neighborhoods.

Or, as often as the few patrolling soldiers and gang members would say: "Look, another stray."

Some strays though always found a home.

Despite what his parents think or feel; Denzel wanted this stray. He has seen it before with a few of the other kids and neighbors.

They strays they've found have always become some of their greatest companions.

Denzel had a really good feeling around this new stray.

* * *

**it doesn't end here, more about story will appear.  
**


	10. Etro's Eve Pt 1

**well, i know it is a bit early, but i decided to go ahead and get this up and posted ^^ Halloween is one of my favorite holidays~  
**

**Etro's Eve is a holiday i made up for Cocoon's version of Halloween. around twilight, people celebrate and children dress up and are given free candy, and some eidolons will appear and put on a show along with fireworks. by night when all is asleep, the eidolon named Leviathan comes and wisk away all the living spirits and takes them to Valhalla, there, all family and friends that were deceased will meet with the loved ones that are still living. the rest of the night will be spent as a reunion in Valhalla. by morning, all the living spirits have faded back onto Cocoon and the rest of the day is spent as rest, recollection, thankfulness, and the prayer to Etro for a long and satisfying life.  
**

**this holiday is also appearing in The Black Knight (zackxlightning), and it might also appear in Forgetting Reality (noctisxlighting)  
**

**and this has a little implied cidxlightning chapter and a guest character, that is another brooder ;) and denzel and lightning have no blood relations, takes place after Survivor (which took place after FF13)  
**

**enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Etro's Eve Part 1  
**

The evening was filled with flashing lights and eager giggles as the Farron residence prepared to ship off into the ghoul filled night.

Lightning though, was finding that this particular preparation was becoming a bit of a chore.

"They look fine Serah," the eldest Farron stressed, rolling her eyes at her younger sister.

Serah merely hummed, crouched before the two boys, tugging and adjusting their costumes. Even they looked like they were turning grim.

"Come on Serah, we're going to miss all the candy," Denzel encouraged, backing up his guardian.

"I think we look fine too," Dajh backed.

Chobi the chocobo chick chirped in agreement, titling her head at the youngest Farron, eyeing everyone from her perch on the boy's shoulder.

Serah stepped back, inspecting her work with the two. One hand curled around her chin, while her arm rested on her crossed arm, loosely hugging her side as she debated. "I don't know," she admitted.

"Serah!" the boys whined.

"They look fine," Lightnign stressed.

"Sis, you never cared about how you looked ever, I learned a long time ago not to trust your judgement on this," Serah insisted, lightly scowling at all three of them. In return, all three of them rolled their eyes.

Honestly, Lightning thought the boys looked fine. Denzel's costume was based off his favorite Eidolon, coincidentally, that was Odin, Lightning's past comrade. Looking at Denzel dressed up as the Eidolon brought mixed feelings to her, truthfully. There was sadness of the separation, during her time as a l'Cie, Odin supported her emotionally, reminded her of their goals, and always backed her up in fights.

There was a chance that she might see him tonight; Valhalla and living world became one in the night during Etro's Eve, the departed and Eidolons will appear to mingle with the living. She hoped to see Odin there along with her own parents.

And despite what Serah said, Lightning did care, especially since this was her faithful companion. But it looked like Denzel had managed to get enough "charity" money from some in the GC and among their friends to get what he needed for his costume.

He wore an ivory helmet with a pair of golden horns, white "armor" with green and gold designs, he had a large shield on one arm, and a s shaped sword in the other. The pants he wore were black, though he did have white boots on.

For a costume, Lightning really did find that Denzel did a good job.

Still, probably best to pay back everyone for that "charity". Fang had made it very clear that her adopted son pestered them till they gave him some money. Cid Raines, Rygdea, Snow, and Amodar were Denzel's biggest donators as well.

She had to lecture them all later for spoiling Denzel, especially Snow. If her son turned into a brat, she was going after the "favorite" uncle, especially with the contest he held against Rygdea. Denzel both called them uncles, and being the competitive men they were, did what they could to spoil the boy.

She'd probably evil eye Rygdea for a day, he was intimidated by her evil eyes.

Amodar and Raines were probably going to get a warning; Amodar practically turned into Denzel's grandfather, she doubted there was much she could do to slow that man down.

Now for Cid...

She didn't quite know what she would do with him, she wasn't sure if she knew anymore. After Cocoon's Fall, Cid was in the same hospital as Denzel, with mental problems. Dysley had purposely messed with the poor general's head, there were even implications that he had been brainwashed and tortured by that fal'Cie.

She had found his room when she was going to see Denzel, and she had been shocked still to see him as such a broken mess. Cid had been there for in her first year at the Academy, and graduated the next. She had thought that was the last she'd see him, then they were allies fighting against fal'Cie.

Like with Denzel, she had visited Cid a lot as well, helping him along with his recovery till he was back on his own two feet. Afterwards, when they both were back in the GC for good, he started appearing more in her life than before.

Lightning got used to it, but she didn't know what their relationship was anymore.

"Light, can we go now?" Dajh's whine snapped her out, she perked up, glancing down at Dajh, dressed in black with an eye patch over one eye and a chocobo chick on his shoulder; he and Denzel were staring at her with pleading eyes, a looming Serah behind them.

Flashing them a grin, she reached down, ruffling both their hair. "Yeah," she said, ignoring Serah's huff, "lets go."

* * *

**costumes and the inspirations:**

**Denzel's costume is Odin pretty much, his favorite Eidolon.  
**

**Dajh is based off Fury from Avengers, i cracked up laughing when i thought of fury with an afro and a chocobo chick on his shoulder.  
**


	11. Etro's Eve Pt 2

**guest character appears! probably the most popular pairing for lightning in FF7 FF13 crossover  
**

* * *

**Etro's Eve part 2**

Originally, it was supposed to be Lightning, Sazh, and Barrette walking the kids around Bodhum, pointing out the Eidolons that appear, and making sure they didn't sneak too much candy. There were a few drastic changes to that plan though.

Sazh couldn't make it. This was going to be his first Etro Eve without his wife. Lightning decided to go ahead and Dajh along, leaving Sazh alone for the holiday. She was sure that she could take care of both kids, plus Barette was going to be; or so she thought.

After seeing Serah off to the party NORA was hosting, Marlene had arrived on time, but she didn't have her father with though. Instead, a blonde hair youth was dragged roughly towards her house by the excited girl, waving at them, completely oblivious to the baffled and amused look on the blonde's features.

While Denzel and Dajh rushed forward to meet Marlene, Lightning hung back, eyeing the blonde man. He looked roughly her same age, pale in complexion, with hair that stuck out in all sort of wild ends. Unlike most citizens, he wore black, unless that was his costume; his eyes, she noticed, were a very notable blue. Those eyes flickered up, meeting hers intently and widening slightly.

Lightning narrowed her own in curious suspicion. Who was this man? Where was Barrette?

Her answers came with the overexcited fairy princess that jumped over to her.

"Hey Light!" she exclaimed, "This is Cloud, a friend of dad's. Dad can't make it tonight because he was called off too... important stuff," she explained.

"Important stuff like NORA's party?" Lightning wondered knowingly.

"Yep!" the little girl chirped. "Then daddy found out that Cloud wasn't doing anything and bullied him into joining us tonight." Then, jotting her arms out, she twisted around in her light purple dress with fake fairy wings, grinning up at her. "How do I look?"

Lightning flashed her a fond grin, "You look beautiful Marlene."

Marlene jerked around, shouting, "Seeeee! Light thinks I look beautiful!"

Denzel and Dajh shot Marlene a dark look, the blonde next to them still had yet to move from his spot, eyeing her from where she stood. Turning away from him, she asked Marlene, "So his name is Cloud?"

"Yep! Daddy met him through a friend. He's really quiet, like you, but I like him!" the little girl exclaimed.

"I see," Lightning murmured thoughtfully. An evening wandering alone with a stranger; at least they had kids to watch and keep them busy.

Denzel ran up, grabbing Lightning's hand and tugging, grinning up at her. "We going mom?" he asked, oblivious to his little slip up. Lightning caught it though, blinking slightly startled before allowing a smile to grace her features. "Let's go," she chimed, letting Marlene grab her other hand. Together, the two kids dragged her along, half chatting, half arguing, with Dajh running up along side, offering comments here and there, with the man, Cloud, trailing behind.

During that time, Lightning was lost in her own pleasant, maternal bliss; bliss she hasn't felt since Serah was younger, and her and Hope were still stuck together.

Denzel called her mom. It was a slip of the tongue, it really was; and it wasn't the first time either. Usually, they were accidents; but if made her soar with pride and happiness with each slip up.

Mom meant that he was someone that he could always come to to help him, guide him, and take care of him. Mom meant that she was accepted as his family.

Serah always said it was time to have their family grow; one of the reasons she was marrying Snow.

Her family...

Smiling one of her rare smiles, she lightly pulled Denzel closer as they strolled through the busy streets, half paying attention to all the lights and colors that the kids pointed at. It got to a point that she even forgot that Cloud was trailing not too far behind watching them silently. It wasn't till all three ran off to challegne each other to a game did Cloud actually take the chance to talk to her.

"You handle them very well."

Lightning jumped slightly, turning, she eyed the blonde next to her. He met her stare fearlessly, not even flinching when she hardened her gaze suspiciously. Seeing that she wasn't having an affect, she turned away with a small shrug.

"I've lived with children my whole life," Lightning admitted, thinking it over. "I raised my little sister, and watched over a young boy when we were stuck together during The Fall," Lightning mused, "I found Denzel a while ago, right after The Fall, and adopted him before he got sent to an orphanage. Dajh I've also known and watched over for a while now." She glanced at him. "I've gathered enough experience with children to make do with Denzel by myself."

He blinked at her, arcing a brow, a small smirk tugging at his lips. But just as quickly as it came, it disappeared, him frowning as he eyed her. "You raised your sister? What of your parents?" he probed.

"My father died when we were young," she answered plainly, "and my mother suffered a hard depression that left her bed ridden. She died a long time ago."

"How old?" he asked carefully, almost sounding like he was uncomfortable.

Neutrally, Lightning answered, "I was fifteen. My sister was thirteen."

"That must have been rough," he mused.

"It was," she admitted, her blue eyes swelling heavily with the memories. An Odin dressed boy dashed in front of her vision, chased by a fairy princess. Lightning allowed a smile to grace her features, her eyes brightening. Behind them, nearly hidden in the busy streets with the people and lights; a white horse stood over the crowd, watching them. Its head jerked forward, shaking wildly in greeting, with its violet eyes gleaming.

Her smile bloomed into a full, and she found herself saying easily, "But its fine now. Everything it fine now."

* * *

It was late in the night when they finally decided to turn in. Marlene held tightly to her, with Denzel and Dajh balanced in Cloud's arms, they slipped warily into her home.

Lightning slipped all three into Serah's full bed, smiling tiredly as they snuggled with each other and the covers, the chocobo chick nestled in Dajh's hair, perched above them. Setting their candy bags down by the room, she quietly slipped out, closing the door behind her and turning to the slumped blonde against the wall across from her.

"I rather not do this again," he mumbled out.

Lightning chuckled, "Sort of a must for parents." Cloud just groaned at that, making Lightning laugh. Flashing him a small grin, she nodded towards down the hall, "There's a bedroom there that you can use." Nodding to him, she turned to slip away and turn in for the night.

"Hey, Lightning."

She paused. Tilting her head, she eyed him curiously, waiting.

"How are the trails here?" he asked.

"Hiking or riding?" Lightning asked.

"Riding."

"My friend and I find them to be pretty satisfactory."

"Mind showing me those trails some time?" he asked, a sleepy smirk on his features, he quickly offered, "Maybe even a race?"

Lightning cracked her own smirk, challenge sparking in her eyes. "Perhaps," she reasoned.

* * *

**for those that don't know, though its a bit vague, lightning's story is that her father died when she and Serah were young (it was implied that his personality was similar to Snow's); and that their mother died from and unknown illness. At sixteen, lightning graduated high school and joined the military so she could take care of Serah. when her mother died, that's when lightning changed her name to what it is now and became a different person entirely. **

**serah is about three, two years younger than lightning, so she was probably 12 or 13 when her mother died, leaving her and Lightning alone. she probably got even lonlier when Lightning started to get more involved with work, which lead to the tight relationship with Snow, who was there when lightning wasn't.  
**

**or so i'd like to think.  
**

**and Odin visited! :D  
**

**if it wasn't clear (or even if i cleared it up at all) Etro's Eve is a time when Valhalla and the real world become one, and a time of recollection. people meet up with lost loved ones and friends, as well as relive moments of their best memories. Eidolons also appear and mingle with people, usually putting on a show.  
**

**r&r please~  
**


	12. Break

**this is a sequel to Stray, no pairing and Lightning and Denzel have no blood relations. takes place the fall of Sector 7. sorry, its a short one...  
**

* * *

**Break**

There was chaos everywhere. Faces and voice mingled together, merely making a blur and turning into nothing more than noise; maybe even white noise. To him, it was all the same, for it was seen everywhere.

Fear.

Fear for all lives.

Fear for themselves.

And the desperation. The desperation that came with that fear.

It was overwhelming. It was all so overwhelming.

This desperation and fear.

It was this that got him to how he was now, on the ground, battered and bruised, alone and oblivious to the panicked crowd around him. It was because of this separation that he was alone; his parents gone from his vision. What replaced them was the cold ground to embrace him; and the careless, ruthless crowd of desperate people, struggling to get out in time before Shinra brought the whole place down.

Pushing himself up, stumbling as the earth shook slightly, he shouted out, his voice as desperate and panicked as the rest, with his own thundering heart pushing his own desperation on.

"Mom! Dad!" he cried as loud as could over the crowd, frantically searching through the bodies for the familiar, comforting forms of his parents. Nothing popped out as his parents though, and he was left alone in the chaos, defenseless and confused.

The thought made his heart jump and his eyes watered at the realization. Like the rest of the people here, he pushed forward, struggling to get through the crowd and onto the safety of the other side, hoping, no praying for fate to let him through, and that his parents would be on the other side.

His struggles only earned him another shove to the ground. Just as quickly as he hit the ground, he pushed himself back up, shaking terribly from the impact. He nearly fell again when the ground shook again and the crowd became even more desperate, pushing forward.

Before he could join them, a firm hand grabbed him, holding him back and pulling him away. Turning, he found the familiar glowing eyes of that shadow that had been hanging around Sector 7. That shadow's lips moved, and despite the wildness around them, he heard her, as clear as a star in the night.

"Hold on to me."

During this time, at this moment, he found that it was the only thing he could do. When his arms were securely around her, and her arms around him, he leaned into her, closing his eyes as tears poured. Distantly, he could feel the earth shaking, he could hear the people screaming and the world breaking.

"Don't let go," he heard her say, again, her voice was above everything else.

He found that in this broken time, it was the only thing he could do.

* * *

**sorry about the shortness, but this was one of the saddest parts of the game. all those innocent people... TT^TT shinra, so mean.  
**


	13. Still Alive

**sequel to Survivor, and inspired by the song: "Still Alive" by Lisa Miskovsky  
**

**also, this is the last chapter. i'm not getting ideas for continuation for chapters or prompts, but it was a good run for sure.  
**

** i'd like to thank all readers that have stuck with it, and my thanks especially to reviewers.  
**

**Driven by Apathy  
SJ  
MinaDeville  
ziel101  
Erifrats101  
**

**thank you all for sticking with it, and i really, truly hope that you all have enjoyed it.  
**

* * *

**Still Alive  
**

He stood before them, feeling as empty and gone as they were. He breathed in shakily, clutching the framed picture in his hands; water blind eyes staring at the smeared portrait of three. A man, a woman, and a boy. All were smiling, their eyes bright despite the smudged dirt cascading over them, dimming them. Shakily, he ran his hand over them, trying to clear away some of the grime, just so he could see their faces again, clearly as before.

He was only able to make worse under his shaky work.

He nearly broke at this. Closing his eyes, feeling himself breaking already, he crumbled down, his face cracking into a pained, ironic grin as tears rained down his tanned cheeks. The frame slipped out of his weak fingers, much like they did before. He slumped forward, broken and limp, feeling heavy and weightless at the same time.

For the moment, nothing made sense anymore. Nothing mattered. His weak, strength less hands rose up, covering his own torn features as he broke down into his hands, his cracked cries joining many others in the large cemetery.

It felt like it was his fault. He knew well enough that it wasn't though; but it felt like it.

If only he didn't run off. If only he had listened, stayed with them instead of convincing them to let him go and play, away from them. If he stayed, he might be with them right now. Even dead, they'd be together.

Being with them, together, made being dead all the more appealing.

But he wasn't, he wasn't dead. He was alive. He was still alive. He was left alone in this hell, left to suffer and whither away, by himself.

The gravity of solitude fell over him, pressing him down, constantly and heavily reminding him that he was truly alone. There was no one left, no one else that was there, to help him.

It was just him.

Him against the world.

A world that didn't care.

For all that cared was gone, the remains before him as two mute tombstones, names and information scribbled across the stone.

He couldn't bare to look at them...

Mom... Dad...

He was was so sorry.

He should be there with them, not here. Not alone.

This didn't make it better, with him still alive, left alone, with the last memories of them, fated to fade and get overtaken by all the chaos of Cocoon's fall. He was left to forever see all the fire, the smoke, the dirt and earth that flew everywhere.

Another choked sobbed racked through him as he slowly fell forward, smearing his form over the ground, down before the graves.

They said he was lucky, lucky that he was still alive.

They say they were happy, happy in a place he couldn't reach, a place he couldn't go to yet.

Were they really happy there, without him?

Was he really lucky? To be here without them?

Was this what people really call lucky?

He didn't feel lucky, not at all. And to think that they would truly be happy, in another place, without him... The thought made him sink even deeper into the depths of his sorrows.

They even said that things would get better; he could scoff at that, if he could. How could things get better? How would they get better? Cocoon was a mess, families were torn apart, literally, he was alone, barely surviving it. How could things get better? He saw no way of how, not in his state. He almost didn't want things to get better.

Too swept up in his misery, he scarcely noticed the soldier behind him, the one that graciously escorted him here; watching him with her own touch of sympathy.

She went through his experience before, at the loss of her mother, six years ago. Now, seeing it happening again, it seemed like so long ago. She could almost see it. In place of the boy, two girls sat before the graves, broth broken, leaning against one another in the rain.

Closing her eyes and breathing in shakily, distantly feeling those drops cast and slink over her skin. She grimaced slightly, feeling her own chest constrict at the memories.

Shaking her head, her eyes heavy, she silently slipped closer, crouching down beside him and gently pulling him against her. He melted against her, his body racked and choked with tears and cries, leaning his body flush against hers.

"I'm here," she murmured to him reassuringly. He sniffled against her, trembling in her arms as he buried his wet face into the crook of her shoulder and neck, his body limp with sobs. The whole time she kept him close, running her hands through his hair.

"Do.. do you," he uttered shakily, "do you think they are happy?"

She frowned, shaking her head as she leaned her cheek on the side of his head, running her hand through his tangled mess of hair, lightly feeling the small scar he got from Cocoon's fall. Gently, she said, "No one knows for sure. But I wouldn't call them happy, not being separated from you."

He breathed in shakily, going stiff against her.

Quickly, she went on. "But I'm sure that they are happy that you are still alive."

He shifted, glancing up at her through blurred eyes.

"You still have a life to life, Denzel. They would want you to live that life, despite how things turned out, you're still alive Denzel, that's all they would care about."

* * *

_You have changed  
I have changed  
Just like you  
Just like you_

_For how long  
For how long  
Must I wait  
I know there's something wrong_

_Your concrete heart isn't beating  
And you tried to  
Make it come alive_

_No shadows_  
_Just red lights_  
_Now I'm here to rescue you_

_Oh I'm still alive_  
_I'm still alive_  
_I can't apologise no_

_Oh I'm still alive_  
_I'm still alive_  
_I can't apologise no_

_So silent_  
_No violence_  
_But inside my head_  
_So loud and clear_

_You're screaming  
You're screaming  
Cover up with a smile I've learned to fear_

_Just sunshine_  
_And blue sky_  
_That's just how it goes_  
_For living here_

_Come fire_  
_Come fire_  
_Let it burn and love come racing through_

_Oh I'm still alive_  
_I'm still alive_  
_I can't apologise no_

_Oh I'm still alive_  
_I'm still alive_  
_I can't apologise no_

_Learn to lose  
Learn to win  
Turn my face against the wind_

_I will move fast_  
_I will move slow_  
_Take me where I have to go_

_Oh I'm still alive_  
_I'm still alive_  
_I can't apologise no_

* * *

**again, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing this story  
**


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